What Follows After
by Murtagh Strikes Back
Summary: The tale of an elf and a mortal woman, bound by love, yet doomed to be sundered by the decay of time.
1. PrologueThe First Meeting

**Prologue-The First Meeting**

The blistering sun rained down on the city. The streets were empty, the people having long since retreated into the relative shelter of their houses. The palace guards, forced outside by duty, sought refuge in whatever shadows had survived the relentless heat. Gondor had seen no rain for nearly two months. The air was dry, and the streets were dusty. Not a hint of green now remained in the city.

Inside the palace was cool and pleasant. A beautiful young maid with long flaxen hair sat in the library, looking out upon the deserted city from a window set into the thick stone wall. She wore a blue cotton gown, light and practical for such conditions. She was the daughter of one of the palace cooks, and had dwelt there all her life.

She heard light footsteps in the passage outside, and turned to see a tall elf enter the library. His hair was blonde, and his garments were green and brown.

She had always been curious about the elf. His name was Legolas, she knew, and he was a friend of the king. Since the fall of Sauron nearly a year ago, he had stayed in the palace by invitation of the king. He often came to the library, though he had never yet spoken to her. Now, her heart pounded as he approached her. He was- there was no other word for it- beautiful, yet there was nothing feminine about his beauty. A faint fresh scent hung about him, like a forest glade after a rainfall.

"May I sit down?" He asked. His voice was soft and melodious. She smiled and nodded her assent.

Legolas surveyed the young woman across from him with keen eyes. He had never spoken with her before, though he had noticed her and been captivated by her beauty. For several weeks now, he had come to the library almost every day in the hope of speaking to her, but always his courage had failed him. Now, today, he had finally summoned up the nerve to approach her.

"What is your name?" He enquired at length.

"Camille, daughter of Bruna," she replied. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

He smiled. "You seemed a little lonely." He shrugged. "I certainly have need of fresh company. These long days trapped inside are tiring, and the dwarf is a dull companion."

Camille laughed lightly. "Indeed, dwarves are peculiar folk. But why are you trapped inside? I thought that elves were not bothered by the weather."

"It is true that we are more resilient than mortals," he replied, "but we are not immune. Perhaps if there were more trees it would be bearable. As it is, there is little to be seen outside the palace even if I were to brave the heat."

"That is true," she sighed. "It is a shame that you must see our city in such a state. This weather is by no means common. Usually it is a beautiful place to behold, and the streets echo with laughter and merriment. Rarely is it so barren and ugly as now."

"I do not doubt it," said the elf.

Before either could utter another word, the library doors were flung open by a stout dwarf. His beard reached down to his waist, and he wore a heavy shirt of mail despite the heat.

"There you are, you accursed elf!" He cried. "I have been all over the palace in search of you! You're wanted in the throne room, though why I do not know. Come, now!"

Legolas rose gracefully to his feet. "Very well," he said. "Camille, it has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance." With that, he followed the dwarf out the door.

The next few days, Legolas found his thoughts drifting almost constantly to Camille. He saw her whenever he closed his eyes, heard her voice echo in his head in the silence. None of the most beautiful elf-women could out-shine her in his eyes. If Gimli noticed his friend's distraction, he did not speak of it. He merely kept quiet and allowed the elf to dwell on his feelings for the mortal woman. Though duty kept him from the library for many days, he was determined to meet with her again soon.


	2. Promises

**Promises**

Three weeks had passed since Legolas had visited her in the library. Yet still, Camille found herself dwelling on him. She had seen him from a distance as he went about his duties, but had not had another chance to speak with him.

One night she grew restless. Leaving her chamber, she made her way outside into the palace garden. Without the fierce glare of the sun, the air was cool. Camille sat down by the side of the bone-dry fountain and stared up at the crescent silver moon.

All this was absurd, she told herself fiercely. She barely knew the elf. She had only ever spoken to him once! Yet, though her mind told her it was impossible, her heart

spoke differently. There was no escape from the bittersweet emotion that filled her whenever her thoughts strayed to him.

Legolas also was walking in the garden that night. When he saw her pale figure by the fountain, he made his way over and sat down beside her.

Camille was startled by his sudden presence at her side. He had approached without a sound, with no warning whatsoever. Suddenly acutely conscious of herself, she turned to face him.

"You startled me." She began nervously.

"I apologize, my lady. What brings you outside this night?" He asked.

"I grew weary of the palace, and needed a breath of fresh air."

"It is pleasant out here, once the sun is gone. Come, will you walk with me?"

So they walked aimlessly through the gardens, following no particular path, talking of anything that came to mind. At first Camille was very nervous, but she soon began to relax and enjoy his presence.

"I should return to the palace," Camille said reluctantly at length. "My mother may notice my absence."

"Should you not be out here?" He asked.

"I was supposed to be in the kitchens." She admitted, slightly abashed.

Legolas laughed softly. "The kitchens are no place for a lady so fine as yourself!"

"You flatter me," Camille responded, grateful for the darkness that hid her blush.

"Not at all." He said, laughing again. "Camille," He added, his voice little more than a whisper. He looked at her, and the intensity of his glance sent a shiver up her spine. Before she could respond, he bent his head and softly, almost questioningly, brushed his lips against hers. When she did not pull away, he kissed her again, passionately this time. And she kissed him back, not caring if it seemed un-ladylike, nor if anyone saw them. He slipped one arm around her waist, the other stroking her hair. She brought a hand up to stroke his face. After a minute in which all the world seemed to spin around her, he pulled away gently. For a moment more, they just looked at each other.

Camille could stand the silence no longer. "But…I am mortal," she managed to stammer. He nodded slowly.

"I know," he said, almost sorrowfully. After a pause, he added, "Come. We should go inside."

They walked down the halls together. Neither spoke, yet it was not an awkward silence. It was comfortable, and pensive. When she reached the door to her chambers, Camille turned to him once more and spoke.

"Shall I meet you again?" She asked, suddenly a little afraid. What if he didn't want to meet with her? What if this was just a game he was playing, merely to amuse himself?

"Of course," he responded. "Come to the library tomorrow. I will be there."

Camille smiled, and opened the door to her chamber. "Goodnight…Legolas." She whispered as she closed the door after her.

After she had gone, Legolas went returned to his own room and stood out on the little balcony he had requested specially. He had no need of sleep. He gazed up at the stars, allowing memories of that evening to run through his mind. No longer could he deny his feelings for her.

Her words echoed through his head. i _But I am mortal. /i _In a few short years, she would grow old and perish, and there would be nothing he could do to stop it. Time would take its toll on her, while he remained young and energetic, in body at least. Yet he could not turn away from her now. He would deal with that when it happened. For now, he could do nothing but enjoy her youth and company while it lasted.

Over the next few months, the two met as often as they could. Each time he saw her, Legolas was captivated by her beauty. How could a mortal woman be so beautiful? When they met, they would just sit and talk. Legolas spoke of his homeland, the woods and caves he had grown up in. Camille told him of her city at the height of its beauty, when it was not dry and barren, but lush and green, bustling with life and joy.

One particular day, Camille and Legolas ventured outside the palace. Both had hungered for a change of scenery, and so had braved the heat to escape for a little while. Camille took Legolas to the old town hall. The place had been deserted for many years now, but the thick stone walls kept out the heat effectively, and nobody else was around to disturb them. There they stayed for many hours, talking of anything that came to mind, as was their custom with each other.

All too soon, Camille realised she was needed in the kitchens, so they parted. She went about her work with a smile on her face, and all the other cooks and waiters marvelled at her sudden high spirits. When her work was over, she returned to her room, but she could not rest. After nearly an hour of restless pacing, she gave up and went to find Legolas.

As she approached his chamber, she realised how unseemly it would be for her to visit him in his room. Just as she was going to return, she heard footsteps down the passage and turned to see him approaching.

"Camille?" He called questioningly, seeing her standing in the corridor.

"Legolas." She blushed, feeling awkward and embarrassed all of a sudden.

"I am glad I've found you at last. I sent a maid to your chamber, but she said you weren't there. I have looked all over the palace for you. Come, I need to speak with her." He spoke lightly, but something in his tone betrayed his agitation.

Once outside, he turned to face her. His usually impassive face showed great distress.

"Camille," he began, his voice faltering slightly. "I have just spoken with Aragorn…King Elessar. My presence is needed at home. I must depart tomorrow at dawn."

Camille felt numb. It couldn't be true. He could not leave her now. She needed him.

"Legolas…" her voice shook.

"I am sorry. Camille, I love you. I will come back, I promise."

"But when?" She could not prevent the tears from sliding down her cheeks. He raised a hand and brushed them away gently.

"I do not know," he sounded miserable now. "But you have my word."

"I will wait for you Legolas, I promise." She sobbed.

He kissed her again, a bittersweet kiss filled with sorrow and love. For how long they stood there, locked in each other's embrace, neither knew nor cared.

The next day, he slipped away before sunrise. He knew that if he saw her again now, his will would fail him. When Camille woke to find him gone, she wept bitterly. She went to the library, where they had first met. It seemed so long ago now, it was hard to believe that it had only been a few short weeks ago. Now, she was facing years of loneliness without him. She did not know how long it would be before she saw him again. She knew only one thing.

He would come back. And she would be waiting for him when he did.


	3. The Return

**The Return**

_ i 80 years later… /i _

Legolas sighed, gazing about the streets of Gondor with curious eyes. Everything had changed so much since he was last here. All was hustle and bustle, people rushing to and fro. Many shops lined the street, and shopkeepers stood out the front, calling their advertisements over the noise of the crowd.

He carefully led his horse through the throng of villagers lining the road. He could see the palace now, just ahead. When he reached the gates, a man came out to meet him. After a few brief questions, he was allowed to pass. A young boy immediately rushed over to take his horse, gazing at him expectantly. Idly flipping the boy a coin, he walked briskly up the steps and into the white halls. He encountered several guards along the way, but they did not question him. The guards were new since the last time he had been here, but they all recognised him as an elf, and knew better than to interfere in his business.

He remembered the halls and passageways as though it had only been yesterday that he last walked here. He found the throne room with ease. Entering, he had barely time to register the man sitting on the throne, before he was hit hard in the gut by something small and heavy.

"Legolas!" Cried Gimli, hugging the elven prince so hard it knocked the wind out of him. "Where have you been, you miserable excuse for an elf?" He suddenly pulled away and stood facing Legolas, trying to regain some of his dignity.

"I am glad to see you too, Gimli," Legolas laughed. Eyeing the dwarf critically, he added, "You have aged."

Gimli chuckled. "And you have not. How typical. You look not a day older since our last meeting."

Passing the dwarf, Legolas made his way across the room, until he was standing in front of the throne. Sinking to his knees, he stared up at the face of his old friend. The ranger was still strong, yet he had aged greatly since their last meeting. Faint wrinkles lined his proud face, and his hair was steel grey, flecked here and there with remnants of its former colour.

"Legolas, mellon nin." Aragorn greeted the elf, smiling. Rising, he pulled Legolas to his feet and embraced him like a brother.

After the initial joy of seeing his old friends again wore off, Legolas found his heart growing heavy. All the years of his absence, he had not forgotten Camille. He had made his promise, and he intended to keep it. Yet, something held him back. Fear.

He had known all along that she, as a mortal, was doomed to fade with the passing of time. However, he simply could not imagine her as an old woman. Seeing Aragorn again had brutally reminded him just how much she must have changed. If Aragorn, with the blood of Numenor running in his veins, had aged so, what would time have done to a regular mortal like her? Legolas tried to conceal his mood from his friends. There was no need, he reasoned, to trouble them at what should have been a happy hour. In fact, he was not sure he wanted to confide this in them at all. However, Aragorn knew his friend too well, and noticed his dark mood almost immediately.

"Out with it, mellon nin." He said abruptly. "What is troubling you?" He gently laid a hand on the elf's shoulder. "Is something wrong?"

Legolas started. "Nothing, do not fuss so much!" He replied hastily. Aragorn quirked an eyebrow.

"Do you take me for a fool? You can't pretend you are alright, and I know you are not, so you may as well tell me what troubles you. Perhaps I can help."

"It is nothing." He sighed in frustration. "Mellon nin, I am sorry, but there is someone I need to talk to. I shall return soon." Legolas turned on his heel and hurried out the door, before his friends could speak another word.

Once free of the throne room, he walked swiftly through the halls. He couldn't stand it any longer. He had to see her. He had to know. Unfortunately, he had no idea where to start looking for her. Impatiently, he made his way to the library. Maybe, just maybe she would be there.

He saw her the moment he entered the library. There was no question as to who it was. She was sitting by the window, staring out over the city. Just how she was at their first meeting.

Yet she was different. Her once silky golden hair was grey and straggly, and looked like it had not been combed in weeks. It hung limp, unrestrained and matted down her back. He shoulders were slightly stooped, and she looked unhealthily thin and scrawny. She wore a threadbare grey gown. Her face was carved and disfigured with deep wrinkles.

The soft fall of his feet alerted her to his presence, and she spun around. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognised him. That face had haunted her dreams and memories all her life. Now, finally, he was standing before her. She hardly dared believe it.

"Legolas?" she questioned, not sure if this was merely some hallucination created by her subconscious to torment her.

"Camille." His voice sounded the same as it always had, albeit filled with a sorrow she could not identify.

Rising slowly to her feet, she hobbled over towards him. When she reached him, she threw her bony arms around him and held him close.

"I always knew you would come," she breathed into his shoulder.

Legolas stared in horror at her, fighting the urge to pull away. What had happened to her? This could not be the same woman he had met here so many years ago. There had to be a mistake.

Another voice rose in his mind, interrupting his thoughts. What was wrong with him? Were his feelings for her so shallow that they would disappear because she was no longer beautiful? Was he going to turn his back on her now?

He didn't know what to do. Nothing in all his long years had prepared him for this. He had lived his life, for the most part, surrounded by other elves, and had always taken immortality for granted. Seeing this woman now, he felt like someone he knew had died. This wasn't Camille. It couldn't be Camille.

Eventually Camille pulled away, and looked up at his face.

"You came." She sighed again. "All my life I have waited, and now you have come."

Sorrow welled up in him at her words. Pushing it aside, he forced a smile. "I have come."

She led him over to the window and sat down. There was so much she wanted to say to him. She told him of the changes that had happened in Gondor since he left. She told him of her life, of all that she had done in his absence, which did not turn out to be much. It seemed she had waited her whole life, dreaming of this one day. She had spent her time wandering in the gardens, or sitting in the library reading and thinking. When he left, her heart had been broken. From that day on, all she had thought about was him. Now he was here, and everything was right again. She felt whole.

In turn, Legolas spoke a little of his doings back at home, which were apparently far more eventful. When all their tales were told, she grew tired of the library, and longed to be out in the fresh air.

"Come," she said. "Let us walk in the gardens once more."

The elf stood up, and held out his hand to help her. He gave her his arm, and she clung to it for balance as she hobbled down the hall. However, she quickly began to grow tired. It frustrated her greatly, but the truth simply could not be ignored. She was not as young as she once was.

Legolas noticed her weariness. "You are tired, Camille. You should rest." Ignoring her faint protests, he led her to her room. "Sleep now. We can meet again later." A sudden longing to be alone overcame him. He took his leave, and made his way up to the roof. He climbed up on the surrounding wall and sat atop it with perfect balance, his legs dangling carelessly over the side into thin air. A cool breeze blew through his hair, soothing him. He tried to steady his reeling mind, to think properly.

He still couldn't understand it. As Camille had talked, he could see remnants of her old self still within her. Yet she did not seem the same person. She was old and tired. She lacked energy. Meanwhile, he was still young of body and light of spirit.

What should he do? He could not, in good conscience, just abandon her, nor did he want to. He knew he loved her still, yet in a different way. He felt for her now as he would perhaps a grandmother or nurse, but not a lover. Where once the thought of making love to her had caused him to ache with desire, now the thought left him feeling cold and sick.

He had given his word. He had promised to come back, and he knew what she had interpreted that as, for at the time it had been his desire as well. She would want to marry him. She would expect him to ignore her old age, would expect his feelings to be the same as ever. He already knew that he could not do it.

He knew that in reality, he was many times older than she. The irony of it was not lost on him. However, while she, at an age that any elf would consider to be merely the beginning of adulthood, was already nearing death, he still was as youthful in body as any young human.

He could not do it. He simply couldn't bear to. To be forced to stay around and watch her fade would be too much for him. He knew what he had to do, though it pained him greatly.

The next day, she came to him as he sat on the steps of the palace, looking forlornly out at the crowd. Already he had begun to doubt his decision.

Camille felt invigorated after a good night's rest. She came and sat beside the elf, looking at him fondly but with an element of insecurity. She had not missed the look he had given her last night, and even one so innocent as herself could not mistake that gaze for desire. She could tell that he was horrified by the changes that had taken place on her body over the years. Yet she still clung desperately to the hope that it wouldn't matter to him. After all, he had lived longer than her by far.

When he turned to face her, however, her hope evaporated. She saw the expression of determination and sorrow on his fair face, and she knew what he was going to say. She stared at him, at a loss for words. No. It could not be. She had waited her whole life for him, he could not turn his back on her now.

"Camille," he began cautiously. His voice was heavy, reflecting his own misery. No matter what she thought, this was hard for him as well. He longed desperately for the woman he had met all those years ago in Gondor. That woman, however, was far beyond his reach now.

Her eyes began to brim with tears, wrenching his heart. Trying to hide his feelings from her, he continued. "Camille, I know that you…"

She cut him off, her voice shaking. "No. Legolas, please." She was pleading with him.

"It will be easier for us both." He could not keep his own voice steady any more.

"It will not!" she cried, finally losing control. "That is but an excuse, and you know it! You are not doing this for me, you are doing it for yourself! I have spent my entire life, waiting for you, and now you are to abandon me!" As quickly as it had come, her fury vanished. She looked into his eyes. "Please? Legolas?"

He could not speak. For a minute, his whole body felt paralysed. Then, he shook his head slowly. "I am sorry." He got up and hurried back inside. He could not face her any longer. He could feel the tears brimming behind his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.


	4. EpilogueDeparture

**Epilogue-Departure**

A week later, Legolas received the news that Camille had passed away in her sleep. She had lost the will to live, and finally succumbed to the call of old age. When he found out, his guilt and grief nearly overwhelmed him. It was all because of him. If only he had been stronger, perhaps she would still be alive.

Her funeral was small and brief. He attended, and added his voice to the song of all the other mourners. She was laid out in her coffin at the front of the hall, yet he could not bring himself to look upon her face in death. He knew he would find no closure in that manner. After the funeral, he continued as he always had, working day and night, hiding his pain behind a façade of serenity. All around him seemed a blur. Aragorn and Gimli noticed their friend's seclusion, but they did not speak of it, and he would not have confided in them even if they had. This was a loss he must bear on his own.

Every day, he though of her, and every night she haunted his dreams. He saw her not as she had been, grey and withering in old age, but young and agile, as she had been so long ago. He longed for her now with every fibre of his being. Yet he knew she was not coming back. He had lost her forever.

He dwelt in Middle Earth for many more years. He brought a company of his people east, and the land became once more beautiful under their care.

Yet the time came when he could no longer bear to remain there. Then he built a great ship, and prepared to sail west to the undying lands, where he could live in joy and sorrow combined for the rest of his immortal life.

Before he could leave, Gimli heard of his friend's intentions. The dwarf was adamant that he was coming, and nobody could persuade him otherwise. So it was that the dwarf boarded the ship with him, as he prepared to sail away.

Legolas knew that the memory of Camille would never fade. He would carry it forever in his heart, a sorrow that could not be relieved by even the bliss of the undying lands. Nor could he ever find closure. The bitter wound would never heal. For all of eternity, he was to carry it deep in his heart, never to fade away. His love and grief, now kindled, would stay with him forever.


End file.
